Friday Flash Fiction: Crushed

21 03 2008

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Due to a very manic week I don’t have a proper entry – although this may change during the workshop tomorrow – and so I’m posting a little bit of back story to The Woodsman that has most likely been dropped for pace reasons. Hopefully it’s enjoyable.

If you missed out on my random drabble from earlier in the week it’s here.

Anyway here goes:

By Neil Beynon

The pain in her head seemed to crush through her as if the tree had shattered her like an egg, her skull spilling its yoke all over the forest floor. And yet she was still aware so it couldn’t have, could it?


There was light all around and then the levels dropped, her vision returning through a kaleidoscope of nausea though she still couldn’t move. She was in a large stone chamber, actually suspended – it seemed – from the ceiling looking down. For a moment she thought she was back in Golgotha, that she had died but then she saw a familiar dais, the stone podium looking out at row upon row of stone benches and the dreaded channels cut in the rock of the dais.

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